


Seasonal Changes

by insanityscars



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Dark Shiro (Voltron), Galra Keith (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, Klance if you squint, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, Lots of Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), and screaming, ansgt, keith is confused, klance, oh right, oh who amI kidding this is really gay, there's also galra keith
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-15 00:12:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9211331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insanityscars/pseuds/insanityscars
Summary: On a rescue mission gone wrong the Paladins learn there is more to Keith than meets the eye. Lance takes it upon himself to comfort Keith, an action that works well - for the grand total of a day. Then it's another frantic rescue, only Keith doesn't want to be found.[just a minific set in season two (seasonal changes ha get it?) dedicated to killing writer's block while I work on longer fics]





	1. The Ultimate Weapon

“We have to get him back,” Keith hissed, slamming his fist against the table. His glass of water pitched, splashing against the maps and papers he’d brought from his room. Keith yanked the paper away and flicked the wet ones, cursing as the ink ran. He threw them over his shoulder and slumped into his seat, face buried in his hands.

 

“Keith, it’s going to be okay,” Allura said softly, placing a hand reassuringly on Keith’s shoulder. He flinched at the action, then brought his hand down and took a deep breath.

 

“I know you want to help, but the only way you can help is by helping me find Shiro.” He hadn’t meant to sound so aggressive, so _angry_ , but he couldn’t help it. The closest thing he had to a father figure was being held captive by the Galra and as far as Keith could see, there was nothing he could do.

 

Allura drew back, hand still reached out to Keith. She drew her arm up to her chest. “You should get some rest,” she said gently, walking around the table into Keith’s line of sight. “It’s getting late, and you can’t keep running on three hours of sleep.”

 

Keith rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm and sighed, pushing up off the table. “Alright,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Is there any way you can search for him?”

 

“The castle can only track the Black Lion, which is in the holding bay. Even if the Lion was with Shiro, he’d probably be out of range. We just have to wait and hope we get some sort of news regarding his location. Now off to bed!” She waved Keith out of the room with a jovial laugh and turned back to the maps on the table, sighing softly.

 

“What joy,” Allura murmured sarcastically, sifting through the maps. Some were highlighted, others scribbled on in multiple colours of ink while others still were plain. The latest colour appeared to be a vibrant green, highlighting the main holding bays for Galra prisoners, the planets entirely under Galra power and, of course, Zarkon’s central command.

 

Allura returned the maps to their positions and was about to retire to her chamber when a map on the floor caught her eye. She bent and lifted it. The corner was damp but it had survived most of the water spillage. Allura glanced over the map which showed routes scribbled roughly in red pen, Keith’s favoured colour roughly a month prior. A handwritten note at the top of the map informed Allura that the hand drawn lines were trade routes for smugglers and bounty hunters. Allura didn’t question where Keith had gotten his information, just pinned the map under a paperweight with every intention of reviewing it the next morning.

 

Only problem was, by the time Allura woke up, the map was gone.

 

* * *

 

 One of the escape pods had been logged out less than an hour after Allura had sent Keith to his room. Since Keith was the only one missing at breakfast it wasn’t hard to tell who had taken it, but none of the Paladins had any clue where he could have gone.

 

Allura suggested that he’d taken the map after she went to bed and had tracked down one of the closest smugglers, but she didn’t know why. Lance had gone off on a tangent – “Who does he think he is, running off like that?”, “I mean, does he have no regard for his own safety?”, “Do you think he’ll come back?” – and tried, in vain, to pretend he was more angry at, than concerned for, the Red Paladin.

 

Lance dragged himself to the training room with the intent of taking his anger out on the unsuspecting training dummies, but in his unfocused state he managed to survive one training level before being thrown across the room by a blunted sword. Lance cancelled the training, shot the dummy for fun and disabled his gun. He slumped against the wall and tipped his head back, considering Keith’s options for leaving.

 

So, he’d followed the smugglers. Why? Not for money. That wasn’t very ‘Keith’. Not for the thrill, he got enough of that flying a giant robot lion. . .a giant robot lion he had left in the holding bay. Why had he left it in the holding bay? Secrecy? So he wouldn’t be detected? Probably. Who traded with the smugglers? Well Lance knew some of them had been ready to rat him out to Zarkon for a reward, so they clearly had ties to the Galra. _The Galra_.

 

Lance was on his feet in seconds and racing down the hallway towards the commons room. He rounded the corner with a cry of, “He’s looking for Shi—!” when his eyes fell on Keith, hunched over the table and simultaneously pointing at maps and chatting up a storm, the other Paladins around him.

 

“You could not let me have this one thing?” Lance whined, slumping against the doorframe.

 

“If it’s any consolation, he only got here a couple of seconds before you,” Pidge offered, adjusting her glasses. She turned back to the map and pointed at something on the lower right corner, speaking to Keith in a hushed whisper. Lance pulled his, “Are you kidding me?” face, threw his hands in the air and stormed off to the kitchen.

 

Lance ran into Allura just as he was leaving the kitchen, steaming mug of _whatever_ in his hand, and jerked a thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the commons room. “Sir Jerkface has returned from his voyage,” Lance muttered, pushing past Allora. He heard, not a minute later, Allora’s enraged shouting wafting down the hall and couldn’t help cracking a smile.

 

Lance’s room was a sort of sanctuary, he had decided. As he lowered himself into a seat his attention was caught by the photo on his desk. He had kept it on his person at all times, but after being separated from the others and crashing on a water planet he decided the best course of action was to leave it in his room. It had been pure luck, after all, that the photo had fallen out of Lance’s suit before he left the Lion.

 

A dozen grinning faces of all ages stared out at Lance. Sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles, nephews, nieces, cousins, he had them all, and the photo itself was of only his closest family. Lance smiled warmly at the photograph and pinned it back up to the board on the wall. He crossed the room to his bed and rolled into it, all legs and arms and mumbled curses. Lance stared up at the roof of the little alcove and sighed, letting his head fall back against the pillow.

 

Apparently it was possible for a blink to last three Earth hours, because when Lance next opened his eyes it was to Keith knocking aggressively on his door and calling, “C’mon, we’re all waiting for you.”

 

It was a groggy Lance that opened the door, rubbing his eyes, to the sight of a battle-ready Keith. Lance stepped back, allowing Keith entry to his room, and started pulling on his armour. He preferred training in the black suit that went under the armour, rather than his regular clothes, and hadn’t changed out of it when he got back to his room.

 

“Where did you go?” Lance asked, breaking the silence.

 

“Found some smugglers with ties to the Galra,” Keith replied, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe. He cast his eyes down.

 

“Keith—” Lance cut himself off as he pulled his breastplate over his head. He took two steps in the general direction of the doorway, almost tripping as he did. “Keith, we’re gonna get him back,” Lance continued once he’d composed himself. He reached out hesitantly, went to draw back, then changed his mind and put his hand reassuringly on Keith’s shoulder. Keith looked up, surprised, then smiled softly.

 

“Come on,” Keith said as Lance drew his hand back. “The others are waiting in the commons room. I sort of haven’t briefed them on the entire plan yet.” “You are a wonder, Kogane,” Lance teased, pulling on his helmet. He followed Keith down the hall and to the commons. Pidge had slumped across the couch, laptop in front of her, and Hunk was sitting opposite her, arms crossed and quite possibly asleep. Lance tapped the back of his head to wake him and dropped down beside the Yellow Paladin.

 

“We’ve almost arrived, Keith,” Allura said, walking into the room. Coran followed her.

 

“Where are we?” Pidge asked, pushing her glasses up her nose.

 

“Yeah, Keith, I mean, you haven’t told us anything. Well you did tell us to meet you here but that’s not really telling us any useful information,” Hunk added, shrugging. “Though I suppose the fact that we’re headed right for a Galra ship might have a little something to do with it.” “We’re what?” Pidge gaped, pushing herself up.

 

“How can you even see that? There’s no windows here!” Lance cried, dumbfounded.

 

“I saw it on my way over from my room,” Hunk said nonchalantly. “We’re going after Shiro, right?”

 

“Well, yeah.” Keith nodded and took his place beside Allura. “We’re going to stop in just a few minutes, then take the Lions in to the Galra ship. One of the bounty hunters I spoke to said Shiro was on this ship.”

 

“Yeah that’s great and all but the last bounty hunters we had a run in with weren’t exactly the most trust-worthy people, yeah? Or has everyone forgotten about how they tricked us, even though I knew the whole ti—”

 

“Hunk, we know!” Keith cried, cutting him off. Keith brought a hand up to his head and leant his forehead against it. “Look, a lot of these smugglers are just in for a quick profit. I went out in my normal clothes, put my hair up and put fake markings around my eyes and down my cheeks.”

 

“How’d you do that? It’s not like I had any makeup for you to steal,” Pidge interjected.

 

“Trust me, you don’t wanna know. Point is, they didn’t give me a second glance. An anonymous tip off to a planet of gold got me started in the right direction, then a little titbit of information on Voltron’s latest whereabouts got me these.” Keith flicked his wrist, sending small, rectangular pieces of paper flying towards the other Paladins. Lance bent down to lift them from the floor and studied them.

 

“You gave away our location?” Allura asked, stunned.

 

“No, I gave away Voltron’s last known location. That is, the planet Quarsan.”

 

“But we haven’t been there in weeks!”

 

“Exactly! It was the last time we had conflict with the Galra, and therefore Voltron’s ‘last known location’.” “Wow, you really can get things done when you put your mind to it,” Pidge teased.

 

“Keith, what. . .what are these?” Lance asked, switching rapidly between the pictures in his hands.

 

“That ship out there? It stopped off about a week ago at a central trade hub. My new friend got me these photos while he was there. Said he didn’t think much of it, the ships stop there all the time, but this one had ten times the amount of guards they normally do, so he knew something was up.”

 

“Keith, is that—?” Allura pointed to a figure in the far corner of a photo.

 

“Shiro? It is indeed.” Keith stepped back, hand on hip, and threw the others a somewhat-cocky grin.

 

“Well, you don’t need to be so full of yourself, mister,” Lance said, standing. He let the photographs scatter to the floor, despite the complaints from the others, and stood beside Keith, looking down at him.

 

“Well then, uh, Mr Genius, sorry to burst your genius bubble, but how exactly are we going to get in?”

 

“Simple: Coran will draw the fire of the Galra while we sneak around the outside. Pidge, you started implementing the cloaking devices on the other Lions, right?”

 

“I finished adding it to Red but haven’t gotten around to working on Blue or Yellow.”

 

“That’s alright, we’ll work with what we have.” Keith nodded and turned back to Lance. “Any other questions?”

 

“Yeah, just one. Where’s Allura in all this?”

 

“I’m coming with you. I’ll be riding in the Red Lion with Keith, since it was his idea. We’re going in as a group so stick close. I feel without Shiro we aren’t at our best, and it’s the least I can do to assist you. Coran, keep the communication lines open in case we need an emergency evacuation.” “Of course, Princess!” Coran offered a wave and left, heading back to the main navigation room.

 

“Alright, it’s go time,” Keith said, eyes darting the each of the Paladins, then to the Princess. “Everyone, to your Lions!”

 

* * *

 

The ship was nowhere near as large as Zarkon’s, but it was grandiose nonetheless. The Lions seemed to sense the possible threat, their force fields activating the second their respective Paladins left. Keith took the lead, bayard at the ready, and the others followed suit.

 

“How are we going to find Shiro?” Lance asked, voice a hushed whisper.

 

“Pidge, if we can get you a robot and an empty room do you think you could hack it like you did at the Galra space station? Find out where they’re keeping Shiro?”

 

“I can try,” Pidge replied, unhooking the miniaturised computer she’d made from her belt.

 

“Great,” Keith murmured, a smirk forming. “Don’t move until I give the word.”

 

In one swift movement Keith was on his feet, sword in hand, and running out into the open hallway. He sliced the blade through a control panel on the wall opposite and watched as the doors opened. When there was enough space for him to squeeze through he bolted into the room. The sound of metal on metal accompanied his disappearance and Lance was about to break cover when Keith reappeared at the door and waved them over.

 

Inside the room lay the bodies of three robots, each one in a different state of disrepair. Pidge made a beeline for the least damaged one and pushed it up against a wall, plugging the connectors from her computer into its mainframe.

 

“Lance, help me keep watch,” Keith said, calling the Blue Paladin over to the door. Lance nodded and moved to stand beside Keith.

 

“I told you we’d find him,” Lance said softly.

 

“Yeah, well, we haven’t found him yet.” Keith sighed and retracted his sword. He kept a firm grip on the bayard and, if Lance had to hazard a guess, he’d say Keith’s fingers would be white under his armour.

 

“We will find him.” Lance put his hand on Keith’s shoulder again, only this time Keith reached up. Lance went to remove his hand but Keith held it in place. Lance’s mouth formed a slight ‘o’ shape.

 

“Thank you,” Keith murmured, releasing his hold on Lance’s hand. “It’s just. . .”

 

“He’s your father figure. I mean, he’s a father figure for all of us. But I get it. You want to see him again.”

 

Keith nodded.

 

“Guys, I’ve got something,” Pidge said, waving them over. Keith shot another look at the doorway and hesitantly followed Lance to where Pidge was standing. “I’ve got a map of this deck of the ship. It’s where they keep the prisoners. Thing is, they aren’t keeping Shiro with the rest of them. They’re all on the starboard side, closer to the engines, while Shiro is on the port side and closest to the bridge.” “But you can find him?” Allura asked.

 

“If I can just transfer this data I can bring up a holographic map for us to follow. It should lead us straight to Shiro.”

 

A sharp clang drew the attention of the Paladins to the doorway, where a single robot was standing, gun at the ready. Keith moved to activate his bayard but before he could even think of drawing his sword an energy bullet pierced the robot, which promptly collapsed.

 

Lance lowered his energy gun, a look of hatred crossed with determination on his face. Keith stared at Lance, mouth agape. He had never seen Lance look like that before. He racked his brain for the word, the name of the emotion radiating from Lance. The Blue Paladin stood, walked to the door, and it was in the way he walked, the way he tightened his grip on his bayard, the way he held himself. But it was the way his jaw clenched, as though the only alternative for it was to tremble, that brought the word forth in Keith’s mind: malice.

 

_The desire to harm someone._

 

“Lance?” Keith asked softly. “Are you alright?”

 

“It wanted to hurt you,” Lance replied emotionlessly, his jaw set. Keith blinked, unsure if he’d heard Lance right. Lance had become stone-cold for him. Lance—the jokester, the trickster, the total class-clown—had, without a moment’s hesitation, shot a figure in a doorway. It had taken Keith a couple of seconds to identify the figure as a robot and it wasn’t until he knew that he’d thought of drawing his bayard. But Lance?

 

Lance could have shot a Galra, for all he knew. He could have killed someone.

 

But that was what they did, wasn’t it? Every time Voltron destroyed a ship, every time the Paladins settled conflict on a planet’s surface—Hell, when Keith had fought Zarkon, torn his ship to shreds, destroyed its outer layer—lives were lost. Yes, they were Galra lives, and the Galra were evil and demented, but they were _lives_. How was Voltron supposed to bring peace when so far the only thing it had brought was destruction?

 

Keith took a step back, felt his back hit the wall. He took a deep, shaky breath and pressed his hands against the wall to steady himself. The sound of rapid gunfire snapped Keith from his daze and he looked up to see Lance, pressed behind his shield, firing singlehanded down the hall. Three resonating _clunks_ signalled the robots had fallen but from the look on Lance’s face there were more coming.

 

“Pidge!” Keith called over his shoulder, drawing his sword.

 

“I’ve got it!” Pidge cried, leaping to her feet. “I’ve locked on to his location, we just need to follow this map.” Pidge held out her palm and a holographic map was projected into the space above it.

 

“Hunk, think you can help me out with something?” Lance asked, firing another round.

 

Hunk nodded, drew his bayard and moved to stand beside Lance. Lance nodded then stepped to the side, allowing Hunk to enter the hall and load a rapid fire assault on the growing number of robots. They all fell to the ground and Lance grabbed Pidge’s hand, pulling her out of the room and down the hall before more robots could make an appearance. Allura followed, then Keith, with Hunk bringing up the rear.

 

“Which way?” Lance asked as they hit an intersection.

 

“Uh, right!” Pidge said, and Lance ran ahead. The sound of bullets ricocheting off metal echoed down the hall, but the robots had all been disposed of by the time the others got there. In that manner the Paladins crossed the ship; Pidge giving directions, Lance racing ahead to take out any potential threats, the rest of the group catching up. Only once did Hunk have to fire behind them.

 

When they finally reached the front of the ship Pidge stopped and looked around. “This room’s empty,” she muttered, tapping her computer against her palm.

 

“You’re sure we’re in the right place?” Lance asked, lowering his gun.

 

“Of course. This is exactly where we’re supposed to be!”

 

“I don’t like this,” Keith murmured, pulling Lance aside. Lance looked down, concern flitting momentarily across his face. “Lance, before, when you shot that robot—”

 

“Keith,” Lance said, putting a hand on each of Keith’s shoulders. He looked into Keith’s eyes and said as softly as he dared, “I can’t lose you.”

 

Keith felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He blinked, stepped back. His eyes sought anything else to look at, anything other than Lance—Lance who had walked back to the rest of the group as if what he’d just said had meant nothing—and his gaze fell on a door in the far wall. Keith stepped forward slowly, one hand gripping his bayard as tightly as humanely possible, the other extended towards the entry panel.

 

The panel was in pristine condition, suggesting it was used recently if not frequently. Keith put his hand on the handprint and watched in rapt fascination as the doorframe lit up and the door began to slide open.

 

“Pidge,” Keith choked out, voice cracking. The others turned to look, eyes wide, as the door opened to reveal darkness. “Shiro, are you there?” Keith asked, fear turning his stomach. It was unnatural just how dark the room was, almost like no outside light could enter. Keith was about to close the door when two glowing, gold ovals appeared at what Keith could only assume was the back of the room.

 

As Keith watched, the glowing ovals moved closer, until he realised they were more almond- than oval-shaped. Keith stepped back, the unease in his stomach growing to a tangled knot of fear.

 

Glowing purple lines began to trace themselves through the darkness in the shape of a hand, a forearm, and Keith gaped as the figure moved into the light. “Shiro?” Keith cried, too stunned to move.

 

“ _Mierda_ ,” Lance hissed, stepping backwards. He lifted his gun but his hands were shaking and his mind was screaming, _Shiro is your friend!_

 

Shiro grinned, revealing pearlescent fangs sharpened to a point, and lifted his arm to attack.

 

“Keith, move!” Pidge shrieked, but Keith couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, couldn’t _breathe_. His chest felt tight, his throat seemed to close, and the pounding of his own blood in his ears was deafening.

 

Keith didn’t realise he’d moved until Lance’s cry of pain snapped him out of his dazed state. He saw Lance stumble, saw the arc of Shiro’s swing, saw how far he’d moved and realised Lance had taken the hit for him. Keith forced his leaden legs to move forward, his frozen arms to hook under Lance’s.

 

“What are you doing, you idiot?” Keith rasped, pulling Lance to his feet. He didn’t release his hold.

 

“Saving your butt is what I’m doing. He could have killed you!” “He could have killed you, too!”

 

“He got a pretty bad angle,” Lance replied, shaking his head. “If he’d hit you it would have done more damage, but he just nicked me.” As he said it, Lance doubled over with a gasp of pain.

 

“You’re a terrible liar,” Keith hissed, pulling Lance against him.

 

“I’m fine,” Lance said, pushing himself to his feet. He took a couple of steps away from Keith and activated his shield. Lance stumbled once and righted himself, somehow managing to find himself in a defensive stance.

 

Keith turned, attention landing on Pidge who was attempting to ward off Shiro with a grappling hook. “A little help would be nice!” Pidge shouted, pressing the flat side of her bayard against Shiro’s arm. He lifted his arm again, bringing it down on Pidge’s bayard, and she stumbled back, dropping her weapon.

 

“Right, yeah, sorry, still stuck on the whole ‘Shiro is evil and trying to kill us’ part,” Hunk replied, lifting his gun. He stared at it for a moment, then looked up at Shiro. “Okay, look, I’m sorry but I can’t shoot him.”

 

“I don’t care what you do just stop him from slicing me to pieces!” Pidge shrieked, leaping backwards. Keith ran in, sword at the ready, and deflected Shiro’s attack with the flat of his blade.

 

“Everyone, go!” Allura called. “We need to get back to the—hangar.” Her voice dropped as two dozen odd robots filed into the room, effectively blocking the only exit. “Coran, we need an emergency evacuation!”

 

“I’m on my way,” Coran replied, his voice booming through the helmets.

 

“Pidge, Hunk, Allura, you take out those robots and cut us a path out of here. Lance, you focus on not dying!” Keith pushed up against his sword, sending it in an arc and pushing Shiro’s arm back. Keith pointed the blade at Shiro, his confidence wavering.

 

“What do you think you can do against me?” Shiro asked slowly. He sounded like Shiro—the real Shiro—but there were differences in his tone, in the way his voice carried.

 

“Honestly? Not much,” Keith replied, already gasping for breath. “I can’t hurt you because, like it or not, you’re still Shiro.”

 

“How valiant,” Shiro sneered, snapping his wrist to the side in an attempt at catching Keith off-guard. Keith countered and stepped back, still holding out his sword.

 

“I don’t need a bayard to beat you,” Shiro mocked, lunging. He dove at Keith again and again, never letting him rest, never letting him breathe. “You’re weak! You’re nothing!” Keith heard a cry from behind him, turned his head. He saw Allura hurl a robot across the room, only for another to charge at her from behind. Pidge had passed out on the floor and Hunk was trying his hardest to cover both Pidge and Lance.

 

Too late did Keith register the weight being lifted from his sword. He turned, just in time to see Shiro bring his hand down. Keith tried to dodge but the blow hit him with full force, sending him flying.

 

“And you have the nerve to call yourself a _Paladin_?” Shiro cried, almost spitting the word.

 

Keith hit the ground and skidded. His ears were ringing, chest on fire. Through hazy vision he saw Shiro striding towards him, triumphant smirk plastered on his face. Keith hung his head, ready to admit defeat, when a spark ignited in his chest. He looked up, saw Shiro bringing his hand down—and he caught it. Just like that, Keith reached up, wrapped his fingers around Shiro’s wrist and stopped his movement inches above Keith’s chest.

 

“Yeah,” Keith said, pulling himself to his feet. He tightened his grip on Shiro’s arm, a small smile playing on his lips. “I do.” Then he threw Shiro. Not shoved which, until that morning, had been the limit of his strength— _threw_.

 

Keith reached down and lifted his bayard. He wiped a stray trail of blood from his nose and closed his eyes. The spark in his chest flared, becoming a roaring fire, and when Keith opened his eyes they glowed _gold_.

 

He started to run. Keith crossed the room with impossible speed and spun, sword slashing through the three closest robots. Two of them immediately fell to pieces while the third staggered, attempted to attack and crumpled at Keith’s feet. Keith strode forward, sword dragging across the floor. In any other circumstance the grating sound would have been unbearable to listen to, but something about Keith, about his weapon, or the way he pulled it, ensured that the sound sent shivers of fear, not disgust.

 

Allura, who had been knocked to the ground only moments before, looked up in amazement at Keith. He was inhumanely fast, leaping between robots in seconds, slashing them to pieces with a single blow. And it seemed, at least, to Allura, that Keith didn’t notice the changes to his skin.

 

That was to say, every breath he took, every move he made, sent purple shooting out across his flesh. Starting at his eyes it worked down, across the rest of his face, down his neck, under his armour. And his ears, Allura noted, had lengthened and broadened, become furry and purple. Keith’s regularly raven hair had even lightened to plum.

 

He was lighter, nimbler, more agile. Terrifying. As Keith cut through the final robot—without even throwing it a glance—he turned his attention to the unconscious Paladins beside Allura.

 

“Keith,” Allura said gently, eyes locked on his. “Keith, we’re your friends.”

 

A great rumbling sounded behind Keith and the wall of the ship peeled back to reveal Coran, standing triumphantly in the docking bay. His eyes fell first on Shiro, then the robots, and finally on Keith. Before he could get a question out Keith wavered on his feet. His bayard slipped from his hand, clattered to the floor, and Keith, skin slowly returning to its regular colour, followed.


	2. The Red Paladin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lance definitely does not scream, and Keith definitely does cry.

The healing pod opened with a hiss and a dazed Lance staggered out of it, rubbing at his temples. He strode as confidently as possible to the latest installation, a set of couches not unlike the ones in the common room, and leant on the back of the closest one, only to give a high-pitched scream and scramble backwards.

 

“What are you screaming about?” asked an eerily familiar voice from the couch. A Galra sat up, rubbed at his eyes, slowly took in the colour of his hands and let out a strangled cry as he scrambled backwards across the couch, as though he could escape himself.

 

The Galra pushed himself back so far that he fell off the edge of the seat and hit the floor. He rolled then stood, turning panicked, golden eyes on Lance. “Lance, what’s happening?” he cried, voice hoarse.

 

Lance’s eyes widened and he took a hesitant step towards the panicking Galra. “K—Keith?” he whispered. Lance took in the clothes, identical to the suit put on him in the healing pod, and the hair, tousled but still mullet-like.

 

“Lance, it’s me,” Keith replied, almost pleading.

 

The door at the end of the hall opened and Pidge, who had been hailed by the screaming, burst into the room, bayard at the ready. Her eyes landed on Keith and she gave a startled cry. Pidge flicked her bayard and sent the grappling hook out. Before Keith could react the hook wrapped around his wrists and with a sharp tug, Pidge yanked him across the room and to his knees.

 

“Pidge!” Lance cried. He tried to run to Keith but his legs gave way and he fell against the seats.

 

"What have you done with Keith?” Pidge snapped, yanking on the grappling hook.

 

Keith gave a cry of pain and looked up at Pidge, eyes pleading. “Pidge, it _is_ me!”

 

The doors opened to reveal Allura who, after taking in the sight before her, rushed into the room. “Pidge, stop!” she cried, putting a hand on Pidge’s shoulder. The young Paladin flicked her wrist and the bayard slacked, allowing Keith to free himself. He stood up, rubbing his wrists, and Lance stepped over to him.

 

“Are you okay?” Lance asked softly, putting a supporting hand on Keith’s arm.

 

“I should be the one asking you that question,” Keith replied, dropping his hands. “You just took a nosedive.”

 

“Eh, I’ve had worse.”

 

“Princess, I—I don’t understand what’s happening?” Pidge lowered her bayard and threw Keith an apologetic look.

 

“Keith, how much do you remember?” Allura asked, making it quite obvious just what she was talking about.

 

“We found Shiro, and the robots all came in. . .and I remember checking on you and Shiro throwing me down. . .but the next thing I remember is coming out of that pod.” He waved his hand at the pod beside Lance’s. “And I was definitely human at the time. I—I think.” His confidence began to waver.

 

Allura nodded. “After Shiro threw you to the ground, he went to attack you, but you grabbed his hand and threw him across the room.” “You did what?” Lance cried. “Dude, that’s awesome! But why don’t I remember any of this?”

 

“You and Pidge were unconscious at the time,” Allura continued. “There were a few robots left, eight or so, and you just crossed the room and destroyed them all. It only took you a couple of seconds.” “During all this. . .did I look, uh. . .”

 

“You were turning into a Galra as you moved. By the time you’d defeated all the robots and turned to face us you had completely changed.” “Wait, wait, did I—did I _attack_ you?” Keith asked, panic rising.

 

“Heavens, no! But, well, after you turned around Coran peeled open the hull. He also wants to apologise for taking so long as he had to stop off and get the Lions. He would have said so himself but he’s busy resting. After he arrived you fainted and changed back to human.”

 

“Allura,” Keith said slowly, “if Coran hadn’t arrived, would I have attacked you?”

 

“Keith, I—”

 

“Would I have attacked you?”

 

“I don’t know,” Allura replied softly.

 

Keith nodded slowly and ran a hand through his hair. “I think I need a bit of time to sort this out,” he said, walking out from under Lance’s hand.

 

“Keith—” Lance started, but was cut off by Allura.

 

“Give him some time. It’s quite a lot for him to handle all at once.” Allura bit her lip. “That being said, if it’s alright with him I’d like to run some tests.” “Tests?” Pidge gaped. “What type of tests?”

 

“Well I’m not going to lock him in a cage and experiment if that’s what you’re worried about!” Allura replied, laughing. “Just some standard, routine testing.”

 

Lance nodded and folded his arms. “What happened to Shiro?”

 

“He was starting to come-to and we couldn’t risk him waking up on the ship.”

 

“I wonder how Keith will take the news.” Lance chewed his lip thoughtfully.

 

“I suppose he knew as soon as he saw Shiro that we wouldn’t be able to take him back with us.” “It’ll still be hard for him,” Pidge said, pushing her hair back. “I need to go trim my mane. I’ll see you guys at dinner.” She turned and strode out of the room, bayard hanging at her side.

 

“I’m gonna go eat. I’ll probably check on Keith when I’m done.” Lance walked past Allura, head bowed, and made his way to the kitchen. Lady Luck had surely graced him that day because, as he entered, Hunk walked in through the opposite door, rubbing his eyes.

 

“Oh, hey, dude, how’s it going? You look like you just saw a ghost? Does overexposure to the healing pod make you hallucinate or something?”

 

“Ran into Keith,” Lance replied, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand.

 

“Wait Keith as in human Keith?” “You didn’t hear the screaming?”

 

“Right, so Keith as in Galra Keith, then.” Hunk nodded once and set to work making whatever he made with all the spices he’d gathered on their trips.

 

“And?” Lance pushed.

 

“ _And_ , what?” Hunk turned to face Lance. “What do you want me to say? He’s Galra, yeah. So what? If anything, you should be the guilty one. You screamed at him.”

 

“No, I—I don’t _mind_. I only screamed because I’d just come out of a healing pod and there was a Galra on the couch. I just thought, well, you saw him attacking first-hand, right?”

 

“Well, yeah.” Hunk turned back to the bench and finished off the plate he was working on. He pushed it towards Lance and started working on another.

 

“What was it like?”

 

“Why don’t you go ask him for a demonstration?”

 

“Hunk, I’m serious. He needs some time to himself and I get that, but if he starts worrying about this I need to be there for him, and to do that I need to know what’s going on.” Lance leaned against the counter and stabbed what he’d decided was alien spaghetti with a fork.

 

“Yeah, and why are you the one to help him?” Hunk finished his own plate in half the time and started moving out to the dining room. Lance raced after him.

 

“Because I want to help him?” Lance offered.

 

“So do we.”

 

“Why are you acting like this?” Lance finally snapped. “You are normally so relaxed and so chill and now it’s like you’re on high alert! Are you so afraid of him that—”

 

“You didn’t see him, Lance. You didn’t watch him destroy those robots. He was like an animal. And he turned and looked at us and he was so scared!”

 

 _Well that’s not quite how I was expecting this conversation to go_ , Lance thought, stuffing another forkful of alien spaghetti into his mouth to stop himself from speaking aloud.

 

“He went into total defence mode, Lance. I don’t know why we’ve never seen this part of him before but I think it was triggered, like a defence mechanism. There is every chance that, had Allura not calmed him down, he would have attacked us, but that’s understandable! And now you want to know what it was like to watch him, to see that happen—Lance, it was terrifying. Not because he had the power to hurt us but because I didn’t know if we were ever going to get the old Keith back. And I get that you want to help him but he’s scared. We all want to help but he needs time.”

 

Lance swallowed, the food in his mouth taking on the consistency of sawdust. He chose his words carefully, let them stir for a moment before speaking. “When he was on the seat, that was Keith. Not the Keith you saw but. . .it was _Keith_. And he still looked like a Galra. Whatever happened on the ship, that moment has passed. We have Keith back. And if you’re concerned about him being Galra, he said he left the pod human, so maybe whatever triggered it is reversible.”

 

“I’m not worried about the Galra part of him,” Hunk said, softer this time. “I’m worried about the human part.”

 

Lance swallowed the lump rising in his throat and walked out of the dining room. He felt sick. Sick and tired. He knew he needed to give Keith time but by the time Lance’s wandering brought him to Keith’s door it was verging on ten minutes since he’d left Allura. Lance’s hand hovered in front of the door and he took a deep breath before forcing himself to knock.

 

“Keith? You awake?” When Lance received no answer he knocked again. “I’m giving you to the count of five before I come in, and if you’re not decent, well, make yourself decent. One—two—three—three and a half—four—four and a quarter—four and a ha—you’re not in there, are you?” Lance dropped his hand onto the entry pad and was not surprised by the sight of an empty room.

 

“Allura?” Lance asked, before realising he wasn’t wearing his helmet. “Okay, guess I’m on my own. We’re going on a Keith hunt, in a massive castle-ship. Shouldn’t be too hard.”

 

Apparently the universe disagreed.

 

Lance ran—quite literally—into Allura midway through his hunt for Keith. He was about to keep running when Allura grabbed his sleeve.

 

“Lance, what’s wrong?”

 

“It’s Keith, I can’t find him. I’ve looked all over the castle and he’s nowhere. His Lion’s still here so I need to go check on the escape pods in case he left—”

 

“Have you tried checking his Zone?” Allura asked.

 

“I’m sorry, his what?” Lance replied, cocking an eyebrow.

 

“His Zone. Those four outer parts of the castle are called Zones, and there’s one for each of the Lions.” “But there’s five Lions.” “Right. The top of the central part of the castle acts as the Zone for the Black Lion. The Black Paladin is the Guardian Spirit of Sky, so the Black Lion’s Zone is the highest point in the castle. It has a massive window for a good view of the sky, and the rest of the room can be manually changed. It could be just black, or have a projection of the outside. The four outer Zones are a little harder to get to. You have to go through the connecting rods, which is impossible when the castle is grounded. There are doors, if you know where to look.” “What are the other Zones like?”

 

“Well, Yellow is the Guardian Spirit of Land, so Hunk’s Zone sort of like a savannah. Mostly grass, some trees, large rocky areas. The Green Paladin is the Guardian Spirit of Forest, so Pidge’s is made up of denser trees, like a rainforest. You’re Guardian Spirit of Water, and your Zone is a lake under a waterfall.” “That sounds awesome! But what about Keith? If he’s Guardian Spirit of Fire is his Zone a massive, flaming pit?”

 

“Keith’s is a desert,” Allura replied softly.

 

Lance blinked a couple of times and nodded. “Thanks, Allura!” he called, running past her down the hall. Once Lance reached the closest corner of the castle it took him a few minutes to find the door. It blended in seamlessly with the rest of the wall, proving that the Alteans not only had extremely advanced technology, but were incredible architects too.

 

The catch for the door was almost invisible against the wall, and positioned right below a light. When Lance pressed it down a section of wall tipped back into the corridor beyond. Lance stepped in, eyes wide, and raced down the corridor.

 

The hallway opened out into a large grassy plane. Lance bent down and pulled at the grass. Most of it came up to his knees, and he could see that patches of acacias and upside-down trees dotted the vast savannah. Lance couldn’t see the walls of the Zone—even when he turned around to go back to the castle, the only thing differentiating the wall from the tunnel was the black arch of the tunnel’s entrance.

 

Lance found his own Zone next, and deduced that the Zones were placed in the same respective places as the Lions when they formed Voltron: looking from above, the Black Lion’s Zone was central and the highest; the Red and Green were at the back of the castle; Blue and Yellow were at the front.

 

Allura hadn’t been kidding when she said Lance’s Zone was a waterfall and a lake, but she hadn’t told Lance just how grand it was, either. Despite knowing he should hurry, Lance couldn’t resist sneaking a peek at his Zone. The tunnel opened up in a cave behind the waterfall, and a small path took him around behind the flow of water and to the lakeside. The lake itself sparkled with hidden freshwater corals and the glint of brightly coloured fish. The surrounding grass was lush and the trees around the lake were laden with fruit.

 

Lance didn’t waste any more time and raced up the castle’s outer halls towards the Fire Zone. The latch was harder to find—Lance eventually found it at the bottom of the wall—but the wall opened all the same and the tunnel still stretched out before Lance, just as the other two had.

 

When Lance emerged from the end of the tunnel he found himself on a rocky outcropping, not dissimilar to the ones where Blue had been hidden, looking down at a desert eerily similar to the one where Keith had made his home.

 

Lance looked out over the vast desert—not a desert of sand but one of dirt, like the red dirt near the Garrison that stained uniforms and caused nightmares. Lance studied the vast desert, unable to tell the desert itself from the mirage-like wall, and kept his eyes peeled for any flashes of movement. He spotted a glint of light bouncing from a rock in roughly the middle of the desert and started his climb down the outcropping, barely taking his eyes from the rock lest the glint vanish and Lance be left to wander for hours in search of the right rock.

 

Lance reached the ground in less than five minutes, a feat he was very proud of, and started off in the direction of the glinting rock with all the time in the world to think of what he wanted to say. He had so many ideas—whether to start off comforting or in control (comforting), whether he should start with asking about the battle or how Keith was feeling (how Keith was feeling) and whether he should stand beside Keith or sit with him (Lance eventually decided that he would stand with his hand on Keith’s shoulder until given indication of whether he could sit).

 

When Lance arrived at the rock, though, every thought and meticulous detail of his speech (he had run it over in his head so much he had the first five minutes memorised) all slipped away.

 

Keith had his back to Lance but it was obvious he had heard the taller boy coming. His ears had drooped and he was holding something, staring blankly down at it. Lance stepped up to Keith and held out his hand, but he retracted it and instead rested it on the rock behind Keith. Keith obviously noticed but didn’t say anything and went back to staring at the object in his hands. Lance made it out to be Keith’s knife, only the bandage around its hilt had been removed to reveal the Galra symbol.

 

“I’ve always had the knife,” Keith murmured when he felt Lance’s gaze on his hands. “I don’t even remember where I got it, it was always just there. I never knew what the symbol meant so I kept it covered.” Keith let out a sad chuckle. “Guess I know now, huh?”

 

“Keith,” Lance said hesitantly, slowly lowering himself down beside his friend. “you know that doesn’t define you.”

 

“I never knew my father,” Keith said absently, almost as if he hadn’t heard Lance. “I suppose this is why.” Keith’s lip trembled.

 

“Keith,” Lance said, firmer this time. He turned and took Keith’s hand. “Look at me,” Lance murmured, tilting Keith’s head to face him. “Do you know what you are?" 

 

“I’m a Galra.”

 

“No.”

 

“Wha—”

 

“You’re Keith. You’re a Galran Keith. You’re the Red Paladin Keith. No matter what aspect of you I take, no matter how much I break it down, I always get to Keith. What you look like doesn’t define you. Look at the Alteans—they have elf ears and coloured arrows beside their eyes. They look like something straight out of a kid’s show but they’re not only incredibly smart—they’re killer warriors, too.”

 

“But the Alteans haven’t spent the last ten-thousand years conquering the universe.”

 

“Neither have you,” Lance said, putting a hand on either side of Keith’s face. He could see his argument was less than convincing and tried another tactic. “I’m a human, right?”

 

“No, you’re a Lance.” Keith retorted.

 

“No, you ignored that motivational speech so we’re moving on. I’m a human. Do you know who else was a human? Adolf Hitler. Do you know what he did? Murdered a lot of people. Am I Hitler?”

 

“No,” Keith said softly.

 

“Who else was a human? Mahatma Gandhi. Do you know what he did? Led an independence movement in India. Am I Gandhi?”

 

“No.”

 

“How many worlds have you enslaved?”

 

“None.”

 

“How many have you helped free from slavery?”

 

“I don’t know. A lot?”

 

“A lot,” Lance agreed, dropping his hands to his lap. “You’re a good person, Keith. Whatever happened, it’s only on the surface. What you’re done over the past months hasn’t been cancelled out by a change in skin tone.” Lance’s eyes fell to his hands, which had subconsciously reached out to take Keith’s. Lance broke out into a grin and he lifted his gaze. He lifted Keith’s hand and, to the joy of both the Paladins, saw that his normal skin tone had started to blossom up the smaller teen’s arm.

 

“Come on,” Lance urged softly. He held Keith’s hand, helped him to his feet and together they walked back to the outcropping. Keith was silent the entire time, and he kept his hand in Lance’s without complaint. By the time they had scaled the outcropping and reached the tunnel’s entrance, Keith had returned to normal and his cheeks were dusted with a light blush.

 

Lance led the way, fingers still curled through Keith’s, and they emerged back in the central part of the castle minutes later to a crowd of anxious onlookers. The second Keith stepped into the open hallway Pidge latched onto him, pressing her face against his chest.

 

“Keith I’m so, _so_ sorry!” she gasped, tilting her head away. Keith, after recovering from his initial shock, lifted a hand to ruffle Pidge’s hair, an action so similar to one Shiro would make that Keith’s chest began to burn.

 

“It’s okay, you were only trying to protect your family,” Keith said softly, the words slipping out before he even realised. Pidge stiffened for a second before nodding, hands slipping slightly down Keith’s back. She stepped back and wiped at her eyes.

 

Hunk stood, speechless, eyes glossing up and down Keith’s frame until he stepped forward and enveloped the Red Paladin in a hug. Next thing Keith knew, Lance was at his back, arms around the two of them, Pidge was at his right and Allura was sandwiched between Lance and Hunk. Even Coran, who had emerged from his chambers to search for Keith, gave the others a hug that was far too energetic for someone who had just woken up.

 

When the others pulled back Keith found himself gravitating backwards into Lance’s arms. He tried to right himself and stumbled, eyes dazed.

 

“Keith, are you alright?” Lance asked, hooking his arms beneath Keith’s to hold him steady.

 

“Fine, fine. Just tired. And hungry.” Keith shook his head as if trying to clear it.

 

“Come on, let’s get you some space goo,” Lance said affectionately, looping one of Keith’s arms around his shoulders and bearing part of the shorter boy’s weight. They reached the kitchen after a few torturously silent minutes, and Keith slumped into the closest chair.

 

Lance left him at the table and returned a few moments later with two bowls of green goo. He slid one towards Keith before dropping into the chair beside him, kicking his feet up onto the table and helping himself to a spoonful of his own meal (if you could even call it that).

 

“So,” Keith said slowly, after he’d poked his goo half to death, “you’re cool with me being. . .this?”

 

“Being a goo murderer? No chance.” Lance flashed a grin and poked at his own half-empty bowl.

 

“Lance.” Keith was clearly trying to sound irritated.

 

“So you’ve got purple skin and large, fluffy ears and sharp claws. I meant every word I said in that Zone and leaving that desert didn’t change what I think about you one bit. And to be honest? Purple looks good on you.”

 

Keith snorted, almost spewing goo across the table. Lance laughed and tipped his bowl to scrap the last of it from the bottom. The light blush on Keith’s cheeks flared to a bright flush that covered his cheeks, spread over his nose and even tipped his ears red.

 

Keith ate the rest of his food goo in silence. Lance swept the empty bowl from Keith’s hands and paraded into the kitchen. “So how long have you know about the Zones? Why did no one ever tell me?”

 

“Allura told us all after we left Arus. You weren’t paying attention. Again,” Keith replied from the dining room.

 

“Fair enough.” Lance dumped the bowls in the sink and turned the tap on. “You go there often.” “A couple of times.”

 

“Uh-huh. Have you seen the other Zones?” Lance thought he must have missed Keith’s reply over the sound of the running water, but when he turned off the tap and called after the Red Paladin he received no reply. Lance lifted the bowls from the sink and moved back into the dining room, drying his hands on his pants. Keith was gone.

 

Lance didn’t bother checking Keith’s Zone. From Keith’s reaction he could tell that it was a more sentimental place, not somewhere he went on a whim. Lance finished drying his hands and headed in the direction of the training deck, taking his time as he passed through the corridors. He didn’t run into any of the others but passed by the library and heard indistinctive chatter from inside.

 

The sound of metal on metal rang out from the training room, loud enough that Lance could hear it from the other end of the hall. He reached the door and stood outside for a moment, silently listening to the sounds of battle from within. Keith shouted for the next level after a minute and Lance took that as his invitation to enter.

 

Three robots dropped down from the ceiling and charged simultaneously at Keith, effectively blocking Lance’s view. Keith slashed through one and sidestepped, an action which revealed three things: Keith was fighting with his knife; purple was spreading over the Red Paladin’s skin; and his fighting style had changed.

 

It was a subtle difference, but to Lance it was painfully obvious. The way Keith crossed the room alone was different. He was quicker, nimbler. Almost like a dancer. The way he moved in accordance to his centre of balance—it was the same way he had moved _before_ , but it was like his centre of balance had changed, allowing him freer movement.

 

When Keith spun or slashed his movements were more fluid, like his weapon had become an extension of his arm. He had always been like that, Lance thought, but this was _different_. This was better.

 

Keith slashed through the last training dummy and Lance realised he’d been staring, transfixed, at the now fully-purple Paladin. Lance shook his head and stepped into the room. Keith spotted the motion in his peripheral vision and whirled around, knife pointed at Lance. Keith tensed up when he realised he was about to lunge at a human, and lowered his weapon.

 

Lance held out his arms and Keith let out a sob. He dropped his knife and stumbled forward into Lance’s arms, tears blurring his vision. Lance held Keith tightly to himself with one hand and ran the other through Keith’s hair, murmuring sweet nothings to him as he cradled the sobbing boy in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, chapter two. Next chapter will be very fluffy, and just a tiny bit sinful.


	3. Guardian Spirit of Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Lance does something very gay and Keith does something very stupid.

As it turned out, Galra were very good swimmers. Lance had never seen Keith swim before—he didn’t even know if he could—but after Keith had stopped crying Lance had taken the opportunity to explore his Zone a little more.

 

They’d both stopped by their dorms to grab a change of clothes each, then Lance had led Keith to his Zone. Keith had never set foot in a Zone other than his own, and Lance was more than happy with his friend’s reaction. Keith stared in wonder at the crystal clear lake and stepped slowly around from behind the waterfall. He ran his hand through it and grinned at the mass of tiny rainbows that glittered in the diamond droplets.

 

Lance took Keith’s hand and led him around the curve of the path and to the outer edge of the Zone. A pile of rocks stood beside the tunnel’s entrance, and Lance draped his change of clothes over the ones furthest from the water’s edge. Keith followed suit and pulled off his shirt before stepping into the crystal pool. It was Lance’s turn to blush. He covered his face with his hand, muttered something about exploring the forest and turned to vanish into the trees.

 

Lance moved in a tight zig-zag pattern, starting along the edge of the Zone and following its curve in a straight line. When he reached the other edge he turned and started walking on a slight angle though the forest, back the way he’d come. When he reached the curved tree line near the Zone’s entrance he turned and repeated the process.

 

In roughly the centre of the Zone Lance found a hot spring, something he made a mental note of in flashing neon, and near the right side of the far curve was a small bubbling brook with an underground stream channelled through another, smaller, pile of rocks—a stream that surely lead back to the main waterfall.

 

For a single, solitary moment upon his return to the waterfall, Lance was gripped with panic. He would later explain to the others that his hero instincts had kicked in and he had raced to the water’s edge with every intent of saving Keith’s life. In reality Lance let out a strange, inhuman noise and stood, frozen, as Keith’s still body moved and pushed itself up from the bottom of the lake.

 

Keith broke the surface and flicked his hair out of his eyes, sending tiny droplets of water in Lance’s direction. Curse that mullet. Keith looked up and only then seemed to notice Lance. He waved for the Blue Paladin to join him and dove underwater again.

 

Lance shed his shirt and dumped it beside Keith’s, which was now thoroughly soaked, and slid into the lake. He immediately ducked under and chased the closest fish, an action that caused Keith to seek the surface before he snorted a lungful of water.

 

Keith surfaced moments before Lance and the pair started laughing. Keith pushed his hair out of his face and Lance felt his heart skip a beat. Stupid Keith and his stupid mullet, his stupid smile, his stupid fluffy ears. Lance was overcome by the desire to stroke them. So he did.

 

Lance reached a hand out tentatively to brush Keith’s ears. To his surprise, Keith didn’t snap at him or shy away. Rather, he closed his eyes and tilted his head slightly. Lance chuckled and Keith opened his eyes. He met Lance’s gaze and the laughter stuck in the Blue Paladin’s throat. Wet hair framing his face, eyelashes flecked with tiny water droplets and eyes shining like Lance had never seen. . .Keith looked _beautiful_.

 

“That feels really weird,” Keith murmured, lips barely moving.

 

“Good weird or bad weird?” Lance managed.

 

“Good weird.” Keith closed his eyes again and the corners of his lips twitched.

 

Lance pulled back slowly and Keith sighed, then let himself slip underwater. Lance followed, eyes glued to the Red Paladin. Keith’s hair floated out around his head, wafting gently. He almost looked like a ghost, Lance thought. His pale skin and pitch black hair plus the effect of floating in water made Keith out to look like one of the dead.

 

Then he opened his eyes, and they were so full of _life_ it took Lance’s breath away. He scrambled for the surface and gasped for air the second his head broke the surface. Keith stayed under a few moments longer. When he surfaced he was holding a brilliant blue, miniature fan shell with golden streaks at the base of each ridge. The underside faded from white at the edge to pink in the centre, and at the very middle was a faint red dot. He held the shell out to Lance with a smile and vanished underwater the second Lance had taken it.

 

Lance clambered from the water and placed the shell with his dry clothes. He turned back to the lake where Keith had surfaced. The Red Paladin threw Lance a look that was a mixture of surprise and disappointment—a look that turned to shock when Lance spun and ran back towards the lake. Keith dropped under just as Lance cannonballed into the water, sending a wave rumbling out onto the grass at the lake’s edge.

 

Lance opened his eyes and found himself staring down at Keith, their bodies inches apart, their gazes linked. Keith reached up just as Lance reached down and the pair pulled themselves together, surfacing as one.

 

Keith had both hands wrapped around Lance, so Lance lifted his hand to brush the hair from Keith’s eyes. His hand faltered—how long had Keith looked human? Surely it had only happened a moment ago, because when Keith had presented the shell Lance had been looking at golden eyes. Right? But no, because he had been a ghost underwater.

 

Lance’s confusion slipped away when Keith lifted a hand to take his own. It didn’t matter what Keith looked like. It didn’t matter whether his skin was pale or purple; whether his eyes were violet or gold; whether his ears were small and smooth or large and fluffy. And Lance wasn’t telling himself these things because _it’s the same Keith_. He was telling himself these things because _holy shit, Keith was hot_. And not in the ‘passing someone on the street and gaping’ way.

 

In the ‘I want to spend the rest of my life with you’ way.

 

Lance was convinced if his hand wasn’t already sopping wet it would be sweating so much it would slip from Keith’s grip. Keith didn’t seem to notice, or he didn’t care. His shoulders relaxed and their hands dropped back under the water. Lance’s heart was beating so fast he thought it would leap out of his chest.

 

Keith rested his head on Lance’s shoulder and closed his eyes. Lance’s free hand moved to the small of Keith’s back, and he felt the smaller boy relax into his grip. Keith’s legs tangled slightly around Lance’s and the pair slipped slightly lower into the water.

 

“Are you alright?” Lance murmured, releasing his grip on Keith’s hand and lifting his own. He stroked Keith’s hair gently.

 

“I’m alright.”

 

Keith slipped his now free hand around Lance’s torso, then tilted it up to hold onto his shoulder. Lance smiled down at Keith and closed his eyes. They stayed there, silent and unmoving, for so long that Lance thought Keith had fallen asleep. Then slowly Keith lifted his hand from Lance’s shoulder and pressed it over his friend’s heart. Lance willed his heart to stop pounding and silently cursed Keith—his heartbeat had just returned to normal when the Red Paladin moved his hand.

 

“The others will be wondering where we are,” Keith mused, hand slipping to Lance’s waist.

 

“Let them wonder,” Lance replied, not realising just what his words could have implied. He stared wide-eyed at Keith for a moment, but the shorter boy only chuckled and lifted his head. Lance’s shoulder felt unnaturally light.

 

“Maybe we should head back,” he suggested.

 

“If you insist,” Lance replied, smiling dazedly. The pair untangled from each other and swam to the lake’s edge. Keith stepped out first and Lance was tempted to throw himself backwards into the depths of the lake and never return. Keith had never seemed the ‘effortlessly hot’ type, but there he was, standing on the bank, smiling down at Lance and simply _being_ , and he was effortlessly the hottest—hell, _sexiest_ —person Lance had ever seen.

 

Keith had one hand in his hair, holding it back, and the other on his hip. The false light of the Zone reflected off the rivulets of water that ran down his body, giving him the illusion of glowing. And his face alone—a smile that reached his shining eyes. Lance could almost feel the ground opening up beneath him and swallowing him into the depths of space Hell.

 

Keith lifted his hand from his sodden hair and held it out to Lance. Lance took Keith’s hand and pulled himself from the water, his face a mix of wonder and embarrassment. He watched as Keith dried himself off, then turned his back as Keith changed into his dry clothes. Then they swapped positions, but with less staring on Keith’s part.

 

Lance scooped the miniature blue shell up from the base of the rock and held it up to the light. He smiled softly and tucked it into his pocket, then the pair made their way back around the waterfall and into the connecting tunnel. When they reached the other end the spell that had covered them in the Zone seemed to fade away.

 

“I think I’ll go get some rest before dinner,” Keith said softly, scratching the back of his neck. Lance nodded and turned to go. He hesitated a moment, then turned back and crushed Keith into a hug before darting off to his own room.

 

Rather than going straight to his room, Lance detoured past the laundry and dumped his clothes. He then wandered through the castle until he reached a room he’d found a week before. It was kitted out with all manner of tools and items that could be considered ‘craft’ items. Lance preferred to think they had very important uses on Altea.

 

Lance took a tiny drill and made two small holes at the base of the shell. He treaded a loop of string through the two holes and attached a clip to one end, and a loop to the other. Lance pulled the necklace on and smiled down at it, then started off to his room. Rest didn’t sound so bad.

 

Lance planned to show off his necklace at dinner, crack a few jokes and hopefully make Keith smile. His plans were dashed when Keith didn’t show up. After a few anxious minutes of waiting, silence filled only with a soft, “I’m sure he just overslept,” from Hunk and a reassuring, “He has had a rough day,” from Allura, Lance decided enough was enough and he stormed down to Keith’s room.

 

Unsurprisingly it was empty.

 

A castle-wide search yielded no results. Lance had even taken it upon himself to check the other Zones, but he found nothing. He went straight back to the dining room, and with every shake of the head or unsuccessful Paladin to return, he felt his heartbeat increase and his stomach twist itself into a tighter knot.

 

When Pidge bolted through the door Lance stumbled straight to her, practically pleading for some explanation.

 

“I checked the hangar,” Pidge managed, gasping for breath. “Red was still there so I thought he couldn’t have gone far. I checked the escape pods and they’re all there—”

 

“So he’s still here?” Lance asked.

 

“No.” Pidge took a deep breath and pushed herself fully upright. “The small ships, like the ones Coran and Hunk used to get to the Balmera? One of those was logged out a couple of hours ago. I don’t know where he went, but Keith’s gone.”

 

* * *

 

Lance broke a few things. No one really blamed him. Hunk had been tempted to smash a bowl or two. But Lance really did not take the news well. He had stormed away from Pidge, hands shaking, and walked into the kitchen. A moment later the sound of porcelain shattering echoed through the kitchen and into the dining room.

 

Hunk was the first person into the kitchen. He stopped just inside the door when he saw Lance. The Blue Paladin was standing in the centre of the room, shaking. He threw a glass to the ground and stepped over the shattered pieces. His next steps left bloody prints on the ground.

 

After shattering two innocent plates, a large bowl and another glass Lance snapped. “What does he think he’s doing?” Lance shrieked, eyes welling with tears. “He thinks he’s being brave and strong but he’s _stupid_! He’s going to get himself killed!” The tears spilled over and Lance let out a sob. He repeated, softer, “He’s going to get himself killed.”

 

Hunk stepped forward and Lance fell into his arms, one hand wrapping around his friend, the other clutching the shell necklace tightly. He sobbed into Hunk’s chest, tears staining his best friend’s shirt.

 

“What does he think he’s doing?” Lance whispered, eyes staring, unseeing, down at the ground.

 

“He’s trying to be a hero,” Hunk replied.

 

* * *

 

Keith was glad that, in the few hours it took him to reach the Galra ship, he had gained control of his shifting. But that was weeks ago, and now it was slipping. Slightly. Slipping slightly. He sat on his bed and looked down at his hands. Splotches of pale skin decorated his fingers and palms. He had no doubt they covered the rest of him, and he could tell from the way his vision was swimming that one of his eyes was human, the other Galran.

 

Normally when his control slipped, Keith focussed on one thing. That one thing was normally Lance. Lance and his smile, his laugh, his eyes. But now the thought of Lance sent icicles through Keith’s stomach, and his hands became more human than Galran. Keith cursed himself and swallowed, turning his attention to Shiro.

 

Shiro. Shiro had come back to the ship. That was the only reason Keith had left. He’d left a note, of course—and of course he had hidden it. He’d borrowed Pidge’s scissors a few weeks prior and had forgotten to return them, so the note had gone into the drawer beneath the handle. Pidge would surely have found the note by now. Her hair grew far too quickly for anyone’s liking, and there was a joke among the group that it was caused by one of her crazy science experiments.

 

But now, after waiting around for weeks and proving himself as a ‘real Galra soldier’ and doing things that would make him hate himself for the rest of his life, things had finally turned in Keith’s favour. Shiro had come back, and now Keith could take that sleeping potion he’d ‘borrowed’ from Allura, and he could knock Shiro out and take him back to the castle and everything would be fine.

 

Lance would probably slap him. That was fine. Pidge would probably also slap him. Slightly less fine, but still fine. Hunk wouldn’t slap him. That wasn’t a very ‘Hunk’ thing to do. Allura? Allura would probably chastise him for stealing— _borrowing_ —her formula, but she’d be happy. And Coran? Well, no one ever knew what that man was thinking.

 

Keith looked down at his hands and saw that they had returned to the rich purple of the Galra. Keith smiled and stood, just as an announcement blared over the speakers that intruders were approaching, and any who made it onto the ship were to be captured alive.

 

Keith let out a shaky sigh of relief. The last time they’d had intruders. . .he preferred not to think about that. Keith pulled on his breastplate and lifted his gun. He hesitated for a moment then lifted his bayard and tucked it into his belt. Of course he’d taken it—if nothing else it served as a reminder that _he was not one of them_.

 

Keith strode from the room and started in the general direction the other Galra were headed. He needed to seem interested, seem like he agreed with what they were doing—he was already getting glares and suspicious looks from the other soldiers, thanks to his lack of involvement in most raids or attacks.

 

A flash of movement caught Keith’s eye and he spun just in time to see a figure down the hall dart around the far corner. Keith shot after the figure, hand on his gun. Just in case, he told himself. Just in case. Keith rounded the corner and shot after the figure, shoving them against the wall. He spun them without looking and pressed his arm against the figure’s throat.

 

There was a moment of silence as the two boys stared at each other, then Keith let out a strangled, “Lance?”

 

“Keith!” Lance cried, his face lighting up. “We came here to get you back! Come on, man, let me go and we can go back to the castle!”

 

Keith squared his jaw. “I don’t need rescuing.”

 

Lance laughed and shook his head—the best he could with Keith’s hand at his throat.  “I know, I know, you chose to come here. But seriously, come on!”

 

“No, Lance. I don’t need rescuing.”

 

Lance’s face fell as he realised just what Keith was implying. “No! No, Keith, you’re—you’re one of us! You’re a Paladin, you’re our friend!” Lance lifted a hand, like he meant to console his friend, but Keith knocked it down.

 

“Give me your bayard.”

 

“Keith—”

 

“ _Bayard_.”

 

Lance swallowed and lifted his bayard. He held it out to Keith and shot him a pleading look. Keith pinned it next to his own, then lifted his free hand to his hip and withdrew what looked like a walkie-talkie. He listened for a minute then dropped it back to his waist and removed Lance’s helmet. Keith activated the call.

 

“Lance, is everything alright?” Coran’s voice sounded through the helmet. “I thought we weren’t going to use comms—”

 

“Coran, this is Keith.”

 

“Keith! You’re okay! We were getting wo—”

 

“This is Keith Kogane calling on behalf of the Galra. We have the Princess and the Paladins in our control, stand down.”

 

“Very funny Keith—”

 

“Repeat,” Keith cut him off, “we have the Princess and the Paladins in our control. Deactivate the castle’s defences and stand down. The life of the Princess is expendable, and while the Paladins are to be kept alive I have one at my mercy, and torture is not beyond my limits.” Keith dropped his arm from Lance’s throat only to lift his gun and point it towards his friend. Lance let out a terrified yelp, and that seemed to be enough to tide Coran over.

 

“I’m lowering defences and deactivating the weapons systems, just don’t hurt them!”

 

Keith dropped the helmet to his elbow and lifted the walkie-talkie. He shouted something in Galran then dropped it again and returned his attention to the helmet. “Once you’ve dropped your defences follow the pilots around to the loading dock. The castle is too big for the hangar. Once you’re there lock the castle and leave. Repeat, dock the castle and leave.” Keith ended the call and turned back to Lance, who was watching him with a blank face.

 

“You just said two different things,” Lance said softly.

 

“Did I?” Keith pulled Lance away from the wall and turned him around. Keith pressed the muzzle of his gun lightly into Lance’s back. He started walking and Lance was forced to start moving. Aside from Keith giving directions the pair were silent.

 

“Why?” Lance finally whispered.

 

Keith didn’t respond for a while. Then, “Just like the note said. Trust me.”

 

The cells were cold. That much Keith knew. And he hated having to send his friends there. He hated having to leave them there. With their arrival he would have to postpone his recapture of Shiro. And they were going to hate him.

 

Pidge threw herself against the bars of the cells the second he came into view. She fired off a string of curses the others didn’t even bother trying to cover, and it became painfully obvious that she’d heard every word he said to Coran. The guards had to physically restrain her when Keith pushed Lance into the cell.

 

“You traitor!” Pidge shouted after him.

 

Keith started down the hallway leading away from the cells and took the first right. There was a cabinet on the far wall that held the helmets and bayards of the other Paladins. Keith placed Lance’s bayard and helmet in beside them and cast a glance down to his hip. His own bayard still hung next to his gun.

 

Keith turned his back and walked away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, sorry for the wait and the shorter than usual chapter. Was at a friend's house without my laptop and couldn't update.


	4. Red and Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which. . .well, you'll see.

The sound of gunfire ricocheting down the hall woke Lance from his fitful sleep. He pushed himself upright and sent Pidge tumbling to the ground. Apparently she’d been using his stomach as a pillow. A burst of purple light shone from the corridor and a robot came flying towards the cell. It hit the bars and slumped to the ground.

 

Keith stepped into the room, a wild look on his face, and without hesitation he shot the two robots guarding the cell. Lance was on his feet in seconds. He hit the front of the cell and wrapped his hands around the bars. The others all shied away.

 

“It’s okay, I’m going to get you out,” Keith called, lifting his bayard. He activated it and slashed through the lock. The door swung open. No one moved—no one except Lance.

 

The Blue Paladin leapt away from the cell bars and dove through the open door, stumbling into Keith’s arms. He pulled back slightly and studied Keith. The Red Paladin was a mix of human and Galra.

 

“Lance, stand back,” Allura said softly.

 

“What? No.” Lance turned, keeping a grip on Keith.

 

“He threatened to kill you.”

 

“Yeah, so they wouldn’t lock me up next to you! The entire reason I came here was to get Shiro out and thanks to your little interruption I had to wait even longer. Did you not read my note? Of course you read my note, you ignored it and followed me, right.” Keith put a hand to his forehead. “Look, I know this is going to be difficult but right now I need you to trust me.”

 

Lance lifted a hand and threaded his fingers through Keith’s. “What do we have to do?”

 

“Go down that hall, take the first right. At the very end you’ll find a cabinet. It should be unlocked, if not just smash the glass. Your bayards and helmets are in there. Shiro’s helmet is there, too. Get to the castle. If I’m not there five minutes after you arrive you have to go.”

 

The others nodded and hesitantly stepped past Keith and into the hallway beyond. Lance was the last to leave, but was stopped when Keith called his name.

 

“Is everything okay?” Lance asked softly, turning back to Keith.

 

“Here,” Keith whispered, holding out his bayard.

 

“Keith, no, you’re coming with us—”

 

“If I don’t make it—”

 

“Keith.”

 

“Lance.” Keith pressed the bayard into Lance’s palm and pulled the Blue Paladin closer. “Please. Just in case. My helmet is still in Red. You’ll need to tow Black out of the docking bay.”

 

“Keith, I’m not going to let you run head first into danger. I’m coming with you.”

 

“No!”

 

Keith’s sudden outburst startled Lance. Keith swallowed and lifted a hand to Lance’s collar. He lifted the shell, which was peeking out over the top of Lance’s suit, and offered a sad smile.

 

“You have to go to the castle and stay safe. I can’t lose you, Lance.”

 

Lance lifted a hand to Keith’s cheek. “And I can’t lose you.”

 

“Lance, come on!” Allura called from the hallway. Lance glanced back at Keith.

 

“Go,” Keith whispered, giving Lance’s hand one last squeeze. Then he dove into the hallway, gun in his hands.

 

Keith had always considered himself smart. He would never go so far as to call himself a genius, but he was smart. And he was certainly smart enough to know that charging head first into the middle of a Galra ship stocked full of guards, on his own, with only a single gun was a stupid idea. He also knew that trying to escape from a Galra ship stocked full of guards, carrying an unconscious man over one shoulder, with only a single gun was an even more stupid idea. So what did Keith do?

 

He charged head first into the thick of it, that’s what.

 

He’d had the decency to drop Allura’s potion into Shiro’s food ahead of time, a feat that had been the very definition of ‘not easy’, and now Shiro should, hopefully, be an hour into his twenty-four hours of unconsciousness.

 

Keith had shot down about twenty robots and had knocked out eight Galra soldiers by the time he reached Shiro’s dorm. He thanked whatever gods there might be that Shiro was still in his room and hadn’t ended up halfway across the ship before he fell asleep.  Keith hooked one of Shiro’s arms around his shoulders and hooked an arm around his friend. He half expected Lance to burst in with a cry of, “Oh, no, _I’m_ saving Shiro!” He never did.

 

Keith hadn’t realised just how heavy Shiro was. The last time he’d staged a daring rescue for the man he’d been underfed, guarded by only a handful of people, and Lance helped to bear his weight. Keith grunted and stood upright. He kept a hold on Shiro, but his movement were slow, too slow. Keith tightened his grip and pushed himself forward, wincing every time Shiro bumped something on the way.

 

The guards seemed to be preoccupied by the escaping Paladins which proved valuable in Keith’s own getaway. And he was fine, fine, absolutely fine. He was moving slowly, yes. But he had one arm slung around Shiro, and he hadn’t run into any more guards and the castle was right through there—

 

There were guards. Too many guards. The castle was _right there_ and there were _too many guards_. Forty? Fifty? Fifty-five, he counted. Then fifty-eight. Sixty. Suicide mission or not, Keith reached for his sword—his hand found his gun. Keith swore. Tears pricked his eyes but no, no it would not end like this.

 

Keith lowered Shiro to the ground and grabbed his gun. If he was going down, he was going down fighting. He stayed crouched in the hallway, aimed. The first robot shattered, shrapnel flying into a nearby two, and the three guards slumped.  Three down, fifty-seven to go.

 

The element of surprise no longer on his side, Keith began firing randomly, no longer graced with the time to aim. He positively tore through ten more robots before their return fire drew dangerously close to Shiro’s unconscious frame. Keith gave a cry and lunged out of the hallway, firing blind. For just a second his vision swam, then he was hit with blinding clarity. He felt it in the way his muscles coiled, the way his breath seemed to fuel his whole body—he was Galra, Galra, Galra and it felt _good_.]

 

Keith let loose a flood of bullets, each one hitting its mark perfectly, each one blasting a hole through the robots or ripping off limbs or shattering the guards, sending shrapnel flying. Keith recognised this feeling—this flood of power that coursed through him, that made him feel unstoppable, like nothing in the world could touch him. He’d felt it before.

 

Flashes.

 

_Shiro raising his hand._

_Keith sending him flying._

_The feeling of his sword severing robotic limbs._

_Power._

 

Keith _remembered_.

 

And he was scared. Of himself.

 

The gun stopped firing. Whether it had run out of bullets or had overheated or had locked up, Keith didn’t know. All he knew was the number of motionless bodies on the floor outweighed the number of guards still moving. That, and the castle was getting ready to take off.

 

Keith roared— _actually fucking roared_ —and spun, smashing through the closest three robots with his gun. He threw the gun at a forth and leapt backwards, dodging bullets. He scooped Shiro up, momentarily empowered enough to carry him effortlessly to the castle, and made it through the doors moments before they closed. Just as Keith passed through the archway a sentry fired at him. The plasma bullet cleared the gap in the doors and exploded as it hit Keith’s shoulder. He gave a scream of pain that seemed to snap him to his senses.

 

The next few minutes were an awkward haze of blurred vision and throbbing pain and some god-awful weight on his shoulders that Keith knew he couldn’t leave behind. When Keith’s vision cleared he was in the castle, stumbling blindly towards something, something, something. He followed his legs, trusted himself to know the way, because his mind was too focused on screaming in pain to give him directions to. . .where?

 

The containment tubes. That’s what they were, right? No. No, they weren’t. . .so what were they? They’d locked Sendak in one, hadn’t they? Yes, but. . .that wasn’t their original purpose. They were for keeping memories alive. But hadn’t Coran once called it to detainment room?

 

Keith shook his head. Not important, not important. What was important was that if he put Shiro in one of those tubes he’d stay frozen, stay asleep, stay put. Stay where he couldn’t cut himself out. Stay where he couldn’t hurt anyone.

 

The castle lurched and Keith was thrown across the room. He stumbled back to the tubes and shut the one holding Shiro. Chest heaving, breath hitching, Keith pushed himself against a closed pod. He was so tired, so drained. Surely he could just—

 

No.

 

No, he couldn’t. Keith looked down at his arm. It was bloodied, the flesh was charred, and was that his bone? Keith tore his eyes away and started ripping the Galra armour off. Breastplate, shin guards, arm covers, all of it clattered to the floor at irregular intervals, forming a path back to Shiro. Another path. The bloodied trail on the floor seemed to taunt Keith.

 

_I am not one of them._

 

He threw his helmet aside, sent it clattering to the floor with a guttural cry. No, no he was not one of them. He was powerful and he was dangerous but he _was not one of them_.

 

* * *

 

 

Lance would probably have bitten his nails back to the quick if he wasn’t wearing gloves, so he had to settle for gnawing on the first knuckle of his fore- and middle-fingers. He walked past Coran for possibly the hundredth time and gave an exasperated cry of, “Can you see him?”

 

“I’m sorry, Lance, I told you. We have to completely restart the castle. No audio or visual for at least one of your Earth hours.”

 

Lance gave a frustrated groan and slumped against the wall. The castle started moving with a jolt and Lance cried out.

 

“Allura, what are you doing?”

 

“Getting us out of here,” Allura replied, pushing her hair out of her face.

 

“Allura, you can’t! We don’t know if Keith made it onto the ship!”

 

“I’m sorry, Lance, but if we don’t go now we might not get another chance. There’s already a growing number of guards outside.” Then the castle was moving, and Lance was probably shouting, but he couldn’t really hear anything anymore.

 

“He risked everything to go get Shiro and you’re just going to leave him to die!” Lance shrieked. There were hands clasped around him, around his arms, then his torso, then he was sobbing into Hunk’s chest. Allura moved forward, tried to comfort him, but he pulled away, shouted what might have been, “Don’t touch me!”

 

Lance let out a shaky breath and pressed himself against Hunk. He willed himself to cry, to scream, to _feel_ , but he’d felt too much recently and he had no tears left to cry. So he just stood, silent, motionless, eyes fixed on something that wasn’t really there. He could sense the others moving, the air curling around him as they passed by, could hear the hushed, mutter droning of speech. He knew time passed. He didn’t know how much. Hunk didn’t complain. He didn’t push Lance away or try to make him speak or tell him he was being unreasonable. He just let him be.

 

Thundering footsteps made Lance’s head snap up. He turned away from Hunk slightly, faced towards the door. Pidge’s bayard formed in her hand and she took a defensive stance.

 

The door flew open to reveal Keith.

 

He looked crazed. His eyes, one human and one Galran, were wild and panicked. His hair was a mess, like he’d just been dragged through a hedge backwards. He’d removed most of his armour but still wore the black undersuit, which was eerily similar to the Paladin suit. There was blood practically pouring down his right arm. He looked enraged, like he was about to attack. He looked savage, like he’d lost touch with humanity. But above all else, Keith looked scared.

 

“Shiro’s in the detainment room,” Keith was babbling. “You’ll have to try and remove his arm or something, we can’t just leave him with it on or he could cut his way out of anywhere we lock him, and he might hurt you guys. And we have to undo whatever they’ve done to make him crazy—”

 

“Keith,” Lance said softly, breath barely above a whisper.

 

Keith turned, his eyes locking on the Blue Paladin. For a moment the fog cleared and he was _Keith_ again. He stood up straighter, stopped speaking, even smiled. Then his hand wavered in mid-air, almost like he was trying to reach for his injury and he pitched forward, right into Lance’s arms.

 

* * *

 

 

Keith was human when the healing pod opened. He knew that much. He didn’t know how long he’d been in there, or whether the second he looked up he be thrown into a detainment pod right alongside Shiro, or even he’d actually gotten Shiro onto the ship in one piece. His last waking moments were one massive blur of pain and guilt and power. And fear.

 

But Keith was human, and he was on the castle and, looking around, the medical bay was empty. So that meant either everyone had forgotten how long Keith was supposed to be locked away, or they trusted him to not murder everyone in their sleep once he woke. Despite his fractured memory he knew he’d been ragged when he’d returned to the ship. That, coupled with his betrayal, probably didn’t give him any brownie points in the “I-swear-I’m-not-evil” category.

 

It took Keith a moment to realise that the castle was in the middle of its false night, and that the med bay was probably empty because everyone was sleeping. Despite that, Keith was upset that he was alone.

 

He looked over to the couches, tempted to just collapse onto them, and was preparing to do just that when an indentation in the far couch stopped him. Keith stepped forward to discover that the indentation was a mark from where someone had been sitting, facing him. And despite having not actually seen it happen, Keith figured that the small darkened patch beside the indent was wet from tears.

 

Keith was getting very good at following his instincts. He just started walking. Keith didn’t think about anything, didn’t question where he was going, didn’t worry about waking anyone. He just kept walking. Even with his legs started leading him up flight after flight of stairs, Keith kept going.

 

The Black Paladin’s Zone was different than Keith had imagined. He could see the stars clear as day—well, clear as night in all honesty. Even the ones being reflected from the outside in were in startling clarity. The floor was a reflection as well, and the light seemed to come from every direction, giving the illusion of floating space.

 

A dark patch to Keith’s right turned out to be a rug and couch, and Keith was swamped with jealousy. Then his eyes fell on the shaking mass in the centre of the room, just a shadow against the millions of stars, and Keith’s heart softened.

 

“How come the Black Paladin gets a couch and we don’t?” Keith joked. He saw Lance freeze, saw his head turn. “Little unfa—oh.”

 

Lance slammed into Keith, threw his arms around him, buried his face in the crook of Keith’s neck. Keith almost stumbled but kept himself grounded. His hands moved to hold Lance’s arms steady, to snake around his back.

 

“You’re not mad at me?” Keith asked softly.

 

“You almost died, Keith,” Lance replied, voice muffled, as though that answered every question Keith had. And in a way, it sorta did.

 

Keith lifted a hand to soothingly stroke Lance’s back, copying the movement Lance had made when he’d been comforting Keith. Keith was murmuring something—even he didn’t really know what he was saying—but it seemed to be helping, whatever it was.

 

After a few moments Lance said softly, “I moved it up here.”

 

“Hmm?” Keith cocked an eyebrow.

 

“The couch. You asked when the Black Paladin gets one. I moved it up here.”

 

“Why?” Keith asked softly, thinking this minimal conversation was better than his crazed muttering.

 

“I spent so much time up here, and the floor is really uncomfortable.” Lance smiled, drawing back slightly. Keith kept a hand on Lance’s back, almost like he was telling Lance to stay.

 

“So your solution was to move a rug and a couch up here, rather than go somewhere else?”

 

“I couldn’t go anywhere else. You’ve been everywhere else. Everywhere else just reminded me of you.”

 

“Oh, shit, did you want me to—”

 

“Stay.” Lance blinked at his own forcefulness and cleared his throat. “Stay?”

 

Keith nodded and wrapped his arms around Lance again. He stroked the taller boy’s hair, stayed silent, stayed calm, just stayed.

 

“I was really scared,” Lance said softly. He reached back, took Keith’s hand in his own.

 

“In the cells? I’m sorry about that.”

 

“No, no, that was fine. I was scared when we started leaving. I didn’t think you’d made it.”

 

“I didn’t think I’d make it, either. There were sixty guards between me and the castle.”

 

“How’d you get through?”

 

Keith went silent. Lance leant back, looked him over and slapped a hand to his mouth.

 

“I’m sorry! Did—did something happen?”

 

Keith fought to find the words. “I sort of. . . Look, you know how the others told you that when I first changed I went into a—a state, of sorts? It was that again, but worse. I felt. . .really powerful. Like I could do anything. And. . .it scared me. Even after I was shot I didn’t really snap out of it. What if next time I don’t? At all?”

 

“Next time you won’t be taking on sixty guards alone. Next time we’ll be right there.” “And what if that’s not enough?”

 

Lance leant back and took Keith’s hands in his own. “I’ll be right there with you. You’ll be okay.”

 

And for Keith, that was enough.

 

Keith finally let himself relax, let his eyes wander Lance’s face. “You look horrible,” he said, almost instinctively. Keith’s eyes widened at his own words but Lance just laughed.

 

“I haven’t slept in two days.” “Right. And how long was I in the healing pod?”

 

“Two days.”

 

“Oh.”

 

Lance smiled shyly and averted his eyes.

 

“You need to get some sleep,” Keith said warmly, only then realising just how tired he himself was. He started walking back to the stairs when Lance reached out and grabbed his wrist.

 

“Can we stay here?” Lance whispered, and something in his voice told Keith that worry wasn’t the only reason Lance hadn’t slept. Keith nodded and stepped closer to Lance. The pair moved to the rug and Keith hesitated.

 

“You can take the couch,” Lance said softly, dropping to floor, but Keith just shook his head and sat beside him.

 

“If you’re roughing it, I’m roughing it.” Keith lightly pushed Lance backwards and the taller bay flopped backwards into the rug. He didn’t mention that he was scared Lance wouldn’t be able to sleep without him there. He also didn’t mention that he was scared he wouldn’t be able to sleep without Lance beside him.

 

Lance lay his arm out across the floor and Keith hesitantly lay down, resting his head on Lance’s bicep and almost curling up against him. Lance’s breath caught in his throat, and it wasn’t until Keith’s breath had evened out and his face had relaxed did Lance even let himself think about moving.

 

Looking down at Keith, Lance let himself appreciate the boy a little more. The last time he’d seen Keith he’d been panicky, a devilish mix of human and Galra, and arguably insane. Now, in the faint light of the stars outside, he just looked beautiful. Long hair framing his face, a stray lock falling over his eyes. Each breath in tinted the tips of his ears with a soft violet, each breath out turned his ears fully human.

 

Before he really knew what he was doing, Lance had leant forward to brush a soft kiss to Keith’s temple.

 

And before Lance could even lean back, Keith opened his eyes—those gorgeous violet eyes—and smiled.

 

Lance tried to sit up but his arm was still wrapped loosely around Keith, and he was pulled upright as well.

 

“Oh, God, I’m so sorry, I didn’t—” A soft finger was pressed against Lance’s lips.

 

“Why?” Keith smiled, hand lowering. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to do that?”

 

Then suddenly Lance wasn’t himself anymore. He was someone else, someone in a Lance costume. Because if there was one thing Lance McClain did not do, it was pin people to the floor. And what was he doing right now?

 

Pinning Keith to the floor.

 

Keith looked up at him, face unreadable, then his mouth was on Lance’s—or maybe Lance’s mouth was on Keith’s. Was there really a difference? Lance was frozen in place, too afraid to move in case he fell on Keith, but Keith lifted his arms, wrapped them around Lance. Keith curled his fingers through Lance’s hair, ran a hand up his back, grabbed onto his hips.

 

Lance closed his eyes, lost himself to the feeling of Keith’s lips on his, Keith’s hand roaming his back, Keith tugging at his hair. Without really thinking Lance tipped his head, grazed his lips down Keith’s jawline. The small shivers Keith made only encouraged Lance. The taller boy tugged on Keith’s earlobe with his teeth, and Keith made what was probably supposed to be a suppressed moan. Lance took the opportunity, pressed his lips against Keith’s in an open-mouthed kiss.

 

Suddenly Lance was on his back and for a second he worried he’d overstepped a boundary he hadn’t known about, but then Keith was hovering over him. He had Lance’s wrists pinned with one hand, the other on the floor just above Lance’s shoulder. For just a second Keith’s eyes flickered gold, then it faded, leaving a faint yellow ring around each of his pupils.

 

“Are you scared of me?” Keith murmured, the faintest hint of doubt in his voice.

 

Lance summoned the most flirtatious grin he could manage and purred, “Only when you want me to be.”

 

Keith was on him in a second, his kisses frantic, hungry, desperate, but that was okay because Lance’s were exactly the same. Maybe they were scared, or maybe they were relieved, or maybe they just craved the other’s touch.

 

Lance found his hands were free and he lifted them, draped them over Keith’s shoulders, curled one up to tangle in his hair. He tugged teasingly and Keith made a muffled sound of surprise. Lance tilted his head, found a better angle.

 

Both boys seemed to realise that the space between them was just unacceptable, and in a second Lance was upright, Keith on his lap. Keith was on Lance’s lap, and his mind was reeling and _God_ , this was amazing. Keith let one hand move to the small of Lance’s back, pulled him closer. Keith cocked his head, brushed his lips in a line down Lance’s neck.

 

“Keith, _holy shit_ ,” Lance gasped, feeling fangs graze the flesh of his throat. From the gentle chuckle he felt against his neck Lance knew their formation had been no accident. Lance gave a sudden squeak when Keith nipped at the skin above his collarbone. Lance wished the floor would open up and swallow him.

 

Then Keith lifted a hand to gently cup Lance’s cheek and he felt his blush fading. Their next kiss was gentle, slightly hesitant. Lance leant into Keith’s touch, reached out to link fingers with Keith’s free hand.

 

Lance opened his eyes, found himself looking into Keith’s. Keith smiled lazily, eyelids drooping. Exhaustion was starting to overpower exhilaration, and Keith’s next blink lasted a few minutes. When he opened his eyes Keith was on the couch, his back pressed to Lance’s chest. Lance had one arm draped lazily over him, and he looked about three seconds from falling asleep.

 

Keith relented, let himself slip into a half-sleep state. He didn’t think about Shiro, in the detainment bay, or the other Paladins, sleeping below, or Allura, who now had a half-mad half-Galra in her home.

 

He just thought about Lance, sleeping peacefully behind for the first time in who knows how long. Lance, dazedly mumbling something nonsensical. Lance, pressing his face into Keith’s shoulder and smiling into his back.

 

And it wasn’t perfect. Not by a long shot. But it was good. And it would get better. And that was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you can see I procrastinate things, even the things I enjoy. I'm also really terrible at finishing books. Cliffhangers I can do, but I cannot finish books.  
> Now have a little shameless self advertising:  
> Angsty one-shot written by myself here: http://archiveofourown.org/chapters/21205655?show_comments=true&view_full_work=false#comment_91048634  
> Voltron street performer AU written by moi right here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/9407276/chapters/21295865  
> Also if someone could tell me how to link words to sites in the Notes that'd be great.


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